Little Talks
by PaintedGreyLady
Summary: 'It is universally known fact that all guys are pricks. And all high school guys? Well, they only want one thing - and it sure ain't a wife.' Modern, high school P&P with a twist! Age difference isn't everything... but it sure is an issue when your new, hot English teacher is Fitzwilliam Darcy.
1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Bennet - 'Lizzy' to her friends - is not having a good morning. Firstly, her mother wakes her up at quarter to five am ranting and screeching nonsensically about some new, young, successful doctor moving into the neighbourhood, which somehow means that Lizzy has to be ready for school early, her favourite shampoo is all gone and the only clean underwear left in her drawer are some ill-flattering large grandma knickers.

Lizzy calls out as she clambers down the stairs, half asleep and hastily pulling her hoodie over her head as she adjusts her rather uncomfortable underwear.  
'Mum, I swear, if you don't have a very good reason as to why I was required to wake up at this ungodly hour, there will be serious consequences; involving the removal of your limbs in a slow and agonising way.'

Franny Bennett stands in the door way, mouth agape, and looks at her daughter. Despite her recollection of giving birth to this girl, after seventeen years together, Franny still sometimes struggles to believe this is _her _daughter.

'Lizzy, dear, _do_ be quiet. The girls have to take the day off today, I'm taking them shopping,' she smiles happily, before looking back at Lizzy with an expression of distaste. 'So, your sister has kindly offered to take you to school on her way to work. Right, Jane.' She smiles warmly at Jane; the flaxen haired, red lipped, creamy skinned beauty standing close by.

Jane smiles conspiratorially at her sister before replying, 'Absolutely, mum. I'll see you and Dad tomorrow; my shift at the hospital doesn't end until late.' Jane kisses her mother on the cheek, picks up Lizzy's school bag and drags her asleep-on-her-feet sister to the door.

'So, Lizzy-bear, what's on the agenda this morning? My shift doesn't technically start until eight, so we've got some time to kill before I drop you at school.' Jane smiles at her sister in the passenger seat as she pulls out of the drive way.

Lizzy peels her eyes open to look at the dashboard clock. Harsh neon green numbers read 6:15. Lizzy groans before speaking,

'Jane,' Lizzy looks beseechingly at her angelic sister, 'if you love me at all... please, I need caffeine.' She finishes, falling dramatically back into her seat. She sighs, 'What I don't understand if why Mum had to wake me up this early if you aren't starting until eight.'

Jane looks over sheepishly before pulling her eyes back onto the road. 'Sorry, Lizzy, that's completely my fault. I've, uh, been telling mum that I start at six-thirty so I can leave while everyone's still asleep.' She apologetically smiles and sighs quietly.

At this admission Lizzy pauses for a moment, before bursting into raucous laughter. 'Oh, Jane.' She gasps between laughs, 'I knew it! No one - not even someone as angelic as you - can put up with our family for extended periods of time. God, we're all nutters!'

Jane smiles fondly, before joining her sister in laughter.

'Jane, I just want you to know... if I don't make it home, I love you.' Lizzy stares straight ahead, at the looming buildings that comprise her school, Xavier Senior College.

Jane follows her sister's glance and mock shudders, 'Gods speed, dear sister, and may the force be with you.' The two girls look at each other, take in the other's fake-serious expression and burst into laughter.

Lizzy climbs out of the car, jean clad legs stretching, and slings her bag over her shoulder. 'See you later, Janey. Love you!' She calls as she walks up the path and approaches the front doors. She waves as Jane pulls away, and then enters. The hallways are deserted. No sane students show up before they absolutely have to.  
Lizzy sighs and sets off towards her locker, resolved to get some work done for the next hour and a half.

Upon reaching her locker, Lizzy abandons her resolve, ditches her bag and pulls a novel out.

Lizzy waltzes through the halls, relishing the feel of isolation; as if she is the last person in the world. She seeks out a quiet place to read; a quiet alcove nestled on the stairway between floors and opens her book.

Lost in the pages, Lizzy neglects to notice the sound of any footsteps until they are upon her. She looks up from her book to see a rather tall, rather _hot _male smiling down at her. Lizzy takes in the long jean clad legs, and muscular arms and chest beneath a casual t-shirt. She flashes an answering grin before enquiring flirtatiously, 'You lost? As I don't recognise you, I'm assuming you're new?'

The man nods and replies, 'I am indeed new, and quite lost. I need to find 118b; do you think you could be persuaded to assist me?'

Lizzy smiles and extends and arm, indicating for him to help her up, 'Sure thing, I'm Lizzy. You are?'

He grasps her hand and pulls her up, holding on longer than necessary and staring into her eyes as he replies, 'Will.'

Lizzy falters, lost in his alluring stare, he draws his hand away and speaks again, 'Lead the way, Lizzy.'

Lizzy laughs unconvincingly and turns, gesturing for him to follow. She cannot seem to shake the effect his contact had put on her.

Will smiles from his position behind Lizzy, he can't believe his luck. First day on the job, wandering the halls lost and alone and he encounters the most gorgeous women nestled on the stairs with her head in a book; and not just any book, one of his favourites; Animal Farm by George Orwell. He honestly didn't think that any of the other teachers would bother showing up this early; an hour before the bell, and was surprised - and pleased - to find a likeminded colleague.

After a while walking, Lizzy halts and gestures to the classroom. 'We have reached your destination, Will.' She says, before chastising herself for saying something so embarrassing.

Will smiles before reaching for the door knob. Lizzy opens her mouth, about to tell him it's not likely to be open because none of the teachers have arrived yet, when the door knob gives way under his hand. He swings the door open. Lizzy stands outside as he walks in and sits on the teacher's desk, surveying the room. She feels conflicted between not breaking the rules and hanging out with this hot new guy... Oh, who was she kidding? She smiles as she enters behind him and sits at one of the desks in the front row.

Will looks over at Lizzy and laughs. She's seated at one of the student's desks, elbows on desk, and head in her hands, looking like a real high school student. Lizzy grins back at him. She could listen to that laugh for hours. She inwardly sighs.

'So, what do you have first lesson?' She asks; eager to strike up conversation.

Will looks down at the notes written on his hand, 'Um, year 12 English Studies, room 118b.'

Lizzy smiles, she's in that class. She's about to tell him, when she is interrupted by the clanging of the bell signalling the start of lesson 1. She can hear the doors open, and the wave of weary students pile in. She has to get her books from her locker and get back before the lesson starts, she says a quick farewell to Will neglecting to mention that she'll be right back and departs.

Will frowns, disappointed at her hastened departure but reminds himself she probably has a class to get to and besides, he can see her at recess and lunch in the staff room for the remainder of the school term. He puts on a brave face, and takes a deep breath as his first students trudge in and find their seats.

'Mr Darcy' He writes on the whiteboard. He sits at his desk and waits patiently for his class to take their seats, looking over at the computer as he pulls up the electronic roll - complete with pictures.

Lizzy bustles back into the classroom, relieved to see that teacher hasn't arrived yet, but curious as to why Will is standing at the front of the room. Perhaps he is waiting to introduce himself to the teacher, she wonders. She takes her seat, the same seat she occupied when she was in here previously with Will. She smiles as she pulls out her books, opening a fresh page and doodling a cartoon love heart with the words _Lizzy and Will_ written inside.

Will looks at the roll, in shock. _Elizabeth Bennett_, it reads along with a picture of "Lizzy". The class quietens as he looks over at them , pale faced, as he observes one particular student with their head in a book.

'Shit.' He thinks.

Lizzy becomes aware of the extreme silence in the room. Surely they wouldn't have stopped talking until the teacher had arrived, she thinks. She looks first at her fellow students, staring ahead at the person occupying the teacher's seat. She follows their gaze, and meets a very familiar, shocked stare.

'Shit.' She says.


	2. Chapter 2

The bell rings, signalling the end of this torture. Lizzy practically jumps out of her desk, sprinting for the door.

'Ms Bennet, can I speak with you for a minute?' Will calls out, halting her desperate escape.

Lizzy reluctantly turns back and cautiously approaches the desk.

'Mr Darcy?' She asks, innocently, hoping they can just forget the whole misunderstanding.

He frowns, waiting for the last students to leave the room, before speaking hesitantly in a hushed tone; 'I apologise for our - uh - misunderstanding this morning. I was under the -mistaken - impression that you were a fellow teacher... However, I'm afraid that despite how the situation seems, I will not consent to rewarding you with good grades in return for... uh- s-services'

Lizzy stares - mouth agape - at his harsh face. She is in shock. How could he think... that she... do that? What a prick.  
She frowns, glaring at her "teacher" before replying in a scathing tone. 'Mr Darcy, our situation this morning was not entirely your fault. I too was under a mistaken impression; that you were a new student in need of directions. If you recall, _I_ never introduced myself as a teacher, and nor did _you_. I would certainly not stoop to that level, and I am perfectly capable of achieving good grades on my own merit without providing "services" as you say.' She turns, and storms out of the room, slamming the door in her wake.

Will lets his head fall onto his arms on the desk.

Good one, Will, he thinks to himself; great start to the term. You've really pissed her off. Never mind the fact that you were attracted to her more than ever as she chewed you out. A _student_, for god's sake, a _minor_. What is wrong with you?

'Charlotte, this isn't funny. My god, stop laughing.' Lizzie whines, staring in disbelief as her best friend laughs hysterically; nearly falling off of her perch on the wall, grasping for purchase and dropping her vegemite in the process. Charlotte gasps, wiping tears from her eyes, 'So you - and he - and, God, Lizzy, a _teacher.' _

Lizzy groans in frustration, hiding her face in her hands. Charlotte, viewing this, laughs harder at her friend's mortification. Lizzy peeks from behind her fingers, smiling in spite of the situation and joins in laugher. It really is kind of a ridiculous situation.

'Mum!' Lizzy calls, throwing the front door open, 'I'm home.'

Franny bustles from the kitchen, checking her reflection in the hallway mirror, 'Lizzy! Hurry up, girl, get dressed; we're having dinner at the football club.' Lizzy groans and begins her climb up the stairs, waving in acknowledgement as her mother calls out behind her to 'Tell your sister's to hurry up too, Mrs Lucas is going to steal the good table.'

Two hours later, the Bennet girls pile into the car; the youngest two, Lydia and Kitty, decked out in nightclub appropriate finery, the middle two, Mary and Lizzy in casual jeans and shirts, the eldest daughter, Jane, in a elegant summer dress and the Mrs Bennet in what can only be described as a large salmon curtain draped over herself and teetering gold heels.  
Mrs Bennet prattles on to her daughters as she drives, 'Your father decided to head straight there after work, to have a drink with the boys. So we'll meet him there...'

Upon arrival, Lizzy hurls herself out of the car and away from her family, dragging Jane by the arm, in search of Charlotte.

'Charlotte!' Lizzy calls, spotting her friend across the room talking to some men. Pulling Jane along, she approaches the group. Charlotte smiles deviously as she sees Lizzy approaching.

Embracing Jane first, Charlotte gestures to the men standing with her, 'Jane, this is Charlie Bingley and his friend Will.' Jane smiles politely and looks to Lizzy, noticing her sister's rigid posture and marked silence.

Lizzy observes in horror as Charlotte turns to her asking, ever-so-innocently, 'Lizzy, have you met Will?'


	3. Chapter 3

'Yes. Hi.' Lizzy turns her face away to hide her blush. He may be an arsehole, and her teacher, but god he is hot.

Will shifts, discomfort written on his face, and turns to his friend. He blanches as he observes the infatuated expression on Charlie's face. Here we go again, he thinks to himself as he follows Charlie's gaze to Lizzy's - admittedly gorgeous - older sister.

Charlotte smiles, revelling in the awkward tension.

Charlie smiles, and extends a hand to Jane, 'May I have this dance?'

Jane blushes and nods, taking his offered hand. He leads her to the dance floor, joining the few couples already dancing.  
Lizzy attempts a cautious glance at Will. He is staring straight ahead, avoiding meeting her eyes but turns to look at her when he feels her gaze upon him.

She quickly averts her eyes, and excuses herself. Clearly, she wasn't getting an apology. Or getting asked to dance. Not that she wanted to dance with _him. _ She approaches the bar, orders a coke and leans against it to wait for her drink. She smiles as she watches Charlie and Jane, clearly engrossed in each other. Her mother, seeing the young couple, raves loudly to anyone within earshot about Jane's beauty and attractive qualities, predicting that young Dr Bingley will be in love by the end of the night, and rejoicing in the most advantageous match.

Lizzy turns away. Skols her drink and seeks the nearest exit. She needs some air.

Exiting the building, Lizzy strides down the grassy slope, climbs over the waist-high fence and onto the football field. She lies down in the middle of the field, looking up at the stars.

She is startled as someone approaches. Lizzy looks up to meet the eyes of William Darcy. He smiles down at her in spite of himself, and defying his thoughts against the action, lies down on the grass next to Lizzy. They are silent for what seems to her like a long time before he speaks softly, hesitantly;

'I am sorry, you know. I didn't mean to... I don't think you would... Um, _that_.' He turns on his side to look at her, before continuing, 'But when I met you in the stair well, I, uh, _liked _you. Quite a bit and I thought you were a teacher. And when I found out you weren't... I was angry at myself and I took it out on you. I'm sorry.' He lies back again, looking up.

Lizzy remains silent, but she looks over at him and offers a small smile. They stay like that, under the stars, staring into each other's eyes, for a moment, before Will impulsively moves closer. He reaches out a hand, brushes the hair from Lizzy's face and lets his hand rest there; cradling her cheek.

The smile slips from her face, and her lips part expectantly. Will inches closer again, bringing his face closer...

'William!' A shrill voice calls, 'William, dear, are you out here!?'

Will flinches back, gaping, wide eyed, at Lizzy. He turns his head to see a slim silhouette in the doorway of the club, and sighs exasperatedly. He mumbles under his breath and Lizzy can scarcely make out; 'Charlie's sister...' 'Sorry again...' 'See you on Monday...' before he is hauling himself up from his position on the grass and making his way back across the oval towards the lighted windows of the football club.

Lizzy, propping herself up on her elbows, looks back at Will in confusion. Had they been about to... No, he was her _teacher._ And he was _rude. _Though, he had apologised. She didn't know what to think.

She saw him reach the door, the slim woman grab hold of his arm and drag him back inside, before she, too, rose from the grass and walked back across the oval.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Readers, I apologise profusely for my very, very, very late update. Really, I am so sorry! My life has been kind of hectic lately and I know that's really not an acceptable excuse, but whatever. Over my time off I've come to realise that I hated my writing of this story; so I'm sort-of rewriting it and fixing it up, the basics of the story will not have changed, just the minor details and some dialogue. I hope you like this a bit better, and any criticism is welcome; however keep in mind that I've never claimed to be a good writer, and this is pretty much just a bit of poorly written drabble that I've chosen to share with you.**

I've had some comments about how I would handle the Wickham elements of the story, and whether I would include him at all. I'm trying not to spoil anything (and also trying not to promise stuff that I can't deliver) but I can assure you that he will be included, but not in his usual role of 'one of the reasons Lizzy says she can't love Darcy.' The reason for this being that, obviously, in my story Lizzy and Darcy already have many, many reasons not to be together - and plus, I just really, really hate Wickham.

'Stupid Darcy. Ruining my dinner. Stupid pretty face and perfectly coifed hair.' Lizzy grumbles under her breath as she trudges up the stairs to the school doors, pulling her bed messed hair back into a slapdash ponytail before adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder. The corridor ahead is vacant, and Lizzy rolls her eyes again thinking of her mother's antics that morning; raving about Jane's new beau and getting into a tizzy over Lydia and Kitty's protests that they couldn't possibly go to school today. It wasn't her fault she was late, Lizzy reasoned, it was unavoidable really. Couldn't be helped. She smiled as she sauntered down the hallway. There were three minutes until the end of first lesson, which coincidentally for Lizzy happened to be English studies, which just-so-happened to be taught by a Mr Will Darcy. Her smile widened. There was nothing better than avoiding the issue. And Lizzy had mastered the art of avoidance.

The shrill ring of the bell echoed through the hall, and Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief. She was home free. No Mr Darcy today. She began her slow walk to room 130, her homeroom. Reaching the classroom, she noticed that Mr Spurling hadn't yet arrived. This, she thought, was unusual seeing as he taught a class in the next room and always beat her to the door. She shrugged her shoulders, reached her desk at the front left corner; all the better to debate with Mr Spurling, and pulled out her latest novel; Jane Eyre.

The incessant buzz of students chatter numbed her senses, but she still felt the change when _he _entered the room. His authoritative tone sounded out and caused the chatter to cease. 'Mr Spurling has been detained, and I will be taking over your homeroom this morning. For the next thirty minutes, I suggest you get some work done.' Mr Darcy's unforgiving eyes swept over the faces of the stunned students, all but one staring back at him in awe. His eyes imperceptibly, and unconsciously, lingered on this one; Elizabeth Bennet.

Lizzy sat in stunned silence, her eyes were wide; but not in awe. More like mortification. She quickly lowered them when we felt Mr Darcy's gaze sweep to her. She attempted to bury her face in the pages of her book, but of course he had seen her. She was sitting right near the teacher's desk. Oh no, she blushed, what if he got the wrong idea _again._ She wasn't sitting here to be close to him. She contemplated her chances of reaching the vacant desk two rows behind without him noticing, and her shoulders slumped in defeat; of course he would notice. Mr Darcy made his way to the teacher's desk; the class's eyes following his every move. He took his seat, and snuck one last fleeting glance at Lizzy's blushing face. Was he a horrible person if he admitted that her rosy cheeks and bright eyes made her all the more attractive? Darcy mentally face-palmed. He looked down at the papers on the desk as he was lost in his thoughts. Of course he was a horrible person and not just for the one reason. He made a list of all the reasons he was a horrible person, it went as follows;  
a) he was attracted to his student.  
b) he was attracted to his student; a minor.  
c) he had lashed out and accused her of prostituting herself for good grades  
d) he was still attracted to his student  
e) he had apologised, and then tried to force himself upon her  
f) he was _still _agonisingly attracted to his student  
and last, but not least:  
g) he didn't give a damn about a & b

Lizzy had always hated silence. So, when faced with a silence such as this; rife with awkward tension, she had no choice, really. She had to disrupt it. She breathed in, ready to belt out whatever asinine thought popped into her head first; when she was interrupted. A piece of paper slid onto her desk. She did not see from where, as she had been busy contemplating what she should ask Darcy in order to break the silence and was stuck debating whether to ask: 'do you almost -kiss and flirt with all your students? Or just me?' or 'Are you always such an ass? Or do you reserve your particularly arse-y actions for when you are in my presence?' She turned her attention now to the paper. Her name was printed on the front, the handwriting too neat and precise to be from any of her classmates she knew. She opened the folded paper, and her gaze flicked involuntarily to Mr Darcy, who was looking away in an attempt to be inconspicuous. She muffled her chuckle at his actions, and looked down at the paper. It said;  
_Lizzy, may I call you Lizzy? I realise we haven't been on the best of terms since our introduction, but I had hoped that my apology would somewhat make amends for my words. You should know that when I am nervous, I often spout nonsensical tripe and start throwing insults to people I hardly know. I shall endeavour to right this fault in my character, lest I offend another such as yourself who will call me out on my shit. You are probably wondering if the purpose of this note was for me to spout more nonsensical tribe, and I'm afraid I shall have to disappoint, because it is not. I wanted to offer another apology. For my actions at the football club last night, they were extremely presumptuous (I assume you understand to which instance I am referring) and however much I... Obviously, it goes without saying that we, or rather I, cannot develop any feelings for you whilst I am still your teacher and whilst you still attend this school.  
I hope that you receive this in good will, as it was in this that it was sent. And I also hope that you aren't offended my anything contained herein. I wouldn't want another Lizzy Bennet verbal lashing. I've had enough of those to last a lifetime. Anyway, I'll see you in English tomorrow.  
(p.s. Miss another of my lessons and you'll be seeing what a detention room looks like. )_

Lizzy was gobsmacked. Speechless. She had no idea... that he... and she. And she didn't know whether to laugh or cry in frustration. She glanced at her watch and saw that the recess bell was about to sound; she had limited time at her disposal to pen a reply. She thought for a fraction of a second when inspiration struck. He hastily scribbled on a torn out sheet and as the bell rang and she rose from her seat, she placed the paper on his desk and made her way to the door.

Darcy picked up the paper as he watched her leave; she didn't spare a glance over her shoulder. He turned his attention to the paper and read.  
_I won't be your student forever.  
_The winking face was implied. He fell back into his chair, not sure whether to laugh or cry in frustration. Lizzy Bennet, he thought, what a woman.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: To the reviewers who asked: Lizzy is 17 turning 18 in a few months and is in year 12 (is a senior? Idk what it is in other countries, but in Australia we just say 'Year 12', as in the twelfth year that one attends school). The story begins around mid year, so Lizzy will only have a few months of school left before she graduates.  
Will is almost 23 (he finished school when he was eighteen-ish plus four years university for a teaching degree) and this is his first real teaching job. He came to the school a week into semester two because another teacher, let's call her Mrs Bradley, went on maternity leave.  
Also, someone mentioned that they thought that the jeans Will was wearing a while back were a bit casual, and I realise that this may not apply to everywhere in Australia, but for my school, jeans ****_are_**** fancy.  
Thank you to everyone for reviewing, subscribing and favourite-ing; I now know how it feels to receive 50 emails in the span of 12 hours.  
Can I also please ask for people to call me on my shit? I know I'm not the best at spelling or grammar or proof reading, so if there are mistakes; let a girl know.  
p.s. sorry for the extremely long author's note  
p.s.s. I'm also sorry for my extended hiatus. I am, much like Lizzy, in the middle of year 12 right now and there's rather a lot on my plate; however, I shall endeavour to get back into the swing of writing and hopefully upload every week and a half from now on. But, to make up for my absence, you get this chapter a little early. Enjoy!**

Lizzy fumbled with her chemistry books, complete with two overflowing and overstuffed folders, as she stood on tippy toes and attempted to shove them back into her locker. She felt her balance shifting, her grasping hands failing her and watched in horror as the two folders tumbled from their precarious perch on the shelf and spilled out, spewing their contents, onto the hallway floor. Cheeks glowing with embarrassment, she knelt to retrieve her sheets and books. She cursed herself for noticing Mr Darcy standing nearby in conversation with a teacher; glancing her way briefly before turning his attention back to his colleague. He was probably inwardly laughing at her struggle, she thought, sure as shit wasn't going to offer any help. She turned her face away, but was startled when a pair of men's legs approached and a masculine voice interrupted her progress.  
She sighed and couldn't contain a small smile; Darcy did come! Her smile slipped however, when she realised it was _not _Darcy who offered assistance; rather, an unknown, but handsome (despite his obvious overuse of hair product), classmate.  
Handing her the last of her pages, the boy now offered a hand to help her stand and Lizzy couldn't help but glancing to where Darcy stood still locked in conversation with Mr Peters. She accepted his offered hand and said thanks before turning towards her locker. The boy, who she assumed would merely continue on his way, stayed perched behind her. She turned back towards him hesitantly, before speaking.  
'Um, not to be rude or anything since I am grateful for your help.. but, did you want something?' She attempted a civil tone, but the brush off Darcy had just dealt her left her in a bit of a foul mood.  
The boy attempted a charming smile, which, Lizzy couldn't help notice came off more 'smug' than anything. He raised a hand to brush his hair back as he spoke.  
'Thought I'd introduce myself, to the pretty girl I just saved.' Here, he offered a hand again. Lizzy cringed and barely suppressed a shudder at the prospect of shaking a hand which was surely now coated in copious amounts of hair gel, but extended her hand as well.  
'George Wickham.' He said with a bright smile and, what Lizzy assumed was meant to be, a wink; which turned into more of an eye-scrunch.  
'Lizzy Bennet.' She replied. She paused, and reached behind her to grasp her bag straps before speaking her thanks again and excusing herself.  
Lizzy paced down the hall, turning her face to avoid Darcy's gaze when she passed him but couldn't mistake the look of distaste Darcy threw back to the boy she had left standing near her locker.  
What she didn't see, however, were Darcy's mooning eyes following her progress away from him.

~

'Oh Lizzy, he's just wonderful.' Jane spoke with a breathy sigh. 'We went out for coffee this morning before our shifts started. He's so sweet and charming and handsome. You should see the way he treats his patients; so caring and understanding. He even got grumpy Mrs Gifford to crack a smile.' Jane smile widened with every word and Lizzy's along with it. Lizzy was happy if Jane was happy. Jane hadn't had much time for love lately - what with all her early morning nursing shifts, and Lizzy was ecstatic that she had found Charlie; who had coincidentally begun work at Jane's hospital.

Lizzy felt herself facing an internal debate. Should she tell Jane about Darcy? She didn't want her disastrous interactions with Darcy affecting the budding relationship between her and Charlie, Darcy's best mate; so she decided to remain quiet on the issue. It wasn't like anything else would ever happen between her and Darcy anyway, she reasoned. He was an arse, he was old; almost 23. And, he was her teacher. She had to shake these thoughts.  
She watched Jane bustle around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and getting to work on cooking dinner. This made Lizzy especially happy for two reasons: Jane's cooking was sublime (to be fair, anything was better than a dish from Fanny Bennet's kitchen), and Jane only cooked when she was really, really happy.  
Lizzy promised herself there and then that she would forget about Darcy. They were impossible, she knew, and what was the point wasting her time pining over someone she couldn't have.  
She resolved to focus more on her studies, and, with that decision made excused herself and made her way to her bedroom to begin her mountain of chemistry homework.

Two hours later she found herself stalking Will Darcy's facebook page.

Little did she know, miles away, Will Darcy himself was doing the same for her.


End file.
